


Surprises All the Way Around

by twinsarein



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, M/M, PWP, Underage Sex, bottom!Clark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-05
Updated: 2011-06-05
Packaged: 2017-10-20 03:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinsarein/pseuds/twinsarein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whitney thought Clark was after his girlfriend, but when he's pinning the geek to the lockers while wearing his jersey, he finds out what Clark's really interested in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprises All the Way Around

A sound caught Whitney’s attention, and he looked up from his studying of the latest plays. When he didn’t hear anything else, he looked back down, and tried to get back on track. Being the quarterback meant that he got the lion’s share of the attention, but it also meant that he had the most to do of all the players.

Right now, he was going over each play looking for the mistakes his teammates had made, as well as what strengths they displayed. The coach had been with him up until the last fifteen minutes, but Whitney had wanted to go over a couple of them again, on his own.

Another noise echoed through the all but empty area. This time, it sounded like a locker being opened. Immediately, Whitney abandoned his studying and started heading in the direction of the sound.

They’d never had a problem with theft at this school, but everyone should have gone home ages ago, so Whitney couldn’t figure out why anyone would be here, looking through their stuff. He just wanted to make sure that the locker being opened belonged to the person opening it.

The noise came again, so Whitney quickened his steps. The area the sound was coming from, was where his locker was. Rounding the corner, he was just in time to see someone with dark hair closing the door of Whitney’s locker, and stepping away.

With a growl of anger, Whitney ran the last few steps, and pushed the person into the row of lockers, pinning him with a forearm across the guy’s upper back, his groin brushing the guy’s ass. The unexpected zing that went through him at the contact made his voice even harsher than he’d planned, but he figured that was a good thing. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Whitney?”

The shaky, uncertain voice struck a chord in Whitney, especially after recognition hit. “Clark Kent?” Voice rising on the last name, Whitney flipped Clark around so he could see his schoolmate’s face, but kept him pinned with an arm across his chest.

Holding him there, Whitney used his free hand to start opening his locker. It was a stretch, but he could just reach it. If Clark had struggled at all, Whitney knew he wouldn’t have been able to do it, but the younger man pliantly let himself be held in place. “What the hell were you doing in my locker, Kent? Were you hoping to find a picture of Lana or something? Joke’s on you; we broke up. I thought everyone at the school knew.”

Whitney cursed silently in his head as he went past one of his combination numbers and had to start over again. Clark was strangely silent, just looking down at his feet and biting that full lower lip of his.

To distract himself from the fact that he’d even noticed Clark had a full lower lip, again a traitorous voice whispered in his head, Whitney kept up his tirade. “I’d never have pegged you for a thief, but don’t think I haven’t noticed you skulking around all the football games and practices lately. You need to get it through your head that even though we’ve broken up, you aren’t ever going to have her. She isn’t interested.”

The indignant look Clark shot him did more to convince Whitney than his next words. “I’m no thief; I didn’t take anything from your locker. I know you two broke up, but I’m not after her anymore. She’s made it clear that she’s not interested in me.”

“Yeah, right, Clark. If you aren’t still obsessing over her, what are you doing at the football field all the time?” Just as he finished the question, Whitney made a soft sound of satisfaction as he dialed the last number of his combination.

Given his distraction with Clark, and the angle he was at, it had taken him a lot longer to do that he’d thought it would. Just as he was about to pull up on the release, Clark finally started struggling.

Whitney wasn’t about to let him go until he figured out what he’d been doing, however, so he let go of his locker, and pressed himself more fully against Clark. Clark immediately froze, a gasp working past his lips, a blush staining his cheeks red.

Watching the color spread across Clark’s cheeks with fascination, Whitney shifted against Clark, and then froze himself at the unmistakeable feeling of another man’s erection pressing into his leg. Tearing his eyes away from Clark’s face, Whitney looked down. Of course, as close as they were, he couldn’t see anything, so Whitney moved his left leg a little, and felt it again.

A moan broke from Clark’s mouth, and Whitney’s gaze shot back up to Clark’s face. Deliberately, Whitney moved his leg, harder this time, and he watched avidly as Clark’s head thunked back into the locker behind him as he moaned again.

Whitney’s heart rate sped up, his stomach clenched in desire, and he felt his own cock thickening behind the zipper of his pants. “Jesus, Kent! Is that rod in your pants because we were talking about Lana, or is it because of me?”

Clark licked his lips, and shuttered his eyes; his only answer a shrug of his broad shoulders. Whitney wasn’t going to let Clark out of his question so easily, though. Reaching down, Whitney pressed his palm against the hard length, and Clark let out a small cry as his hips surged forward into Whitney’s hand.

Whitney let out a laugh that was breathier than he’d admit to. “I guess that answers that question.” Glancing at Clark’s face, Whitney could tell that Clark looked blissed out, and Whitney had barely touched him. It made him wonder how far Clark would let him go.

Not that Whitney was gay or anything, but a hole was a hole, and he was horny. He’d fucked a couple of girls before he hooked up with Lana, but not since then. Lana never let him get any further than a few kisses.

Girls always had to turn sex into something emotional and meaningful, when all it was supposed to be was a way to scratch an itch. Being a guy, Whitney could speak from experience when saying that guys were willing to give it up much easier than girls were.

Thought of the lube he always kept in his pocket, thanks to a nosy father who wouldn’t believe he only kept it in his dresser drawer to wank with, flashed through Whitney’s mind. That would make things easier.

Moving his hand, Whitney allowed his groin to press against Clark, matching their erections up, as he leaned forward, putting his mouth near Clark’s ear. “You going to let me fuck your ass, Clark?”

If Whitney hadn’t already been hard, then the shiver that went through Clark, along with an escaping whimper at his question would have made him that way. Clark tried to surge forward for a kiss, but Whitney pushed him back. Fucking to relieve some tension was one thing, but kissing a guy would be totally gay.

Especially a guy with a mouth like Clark’s. Lips Whitney could really sink his teeth into, so plump and... Whitney broke off those thoughts, and forced himself to think of the end goal. “You do want it, don’t you? So much. Well, don’t worry, I’ll give it to you. Right here against the lockers. I’ll turn you around, pull your pants down, and fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

Those moss green eyes darkened with want, making Whitney swallow hard in an effort to retain some control. “Please, Whitney. Do it.”

The pleading note in Clark’s voice made a mockery of Whitney’s efforts at self-control. Suddenly, Whitney wanted skin. Grabbing Clark, he started undoing Clark’s shirts. When Clark was bare from the waist up, Whitney laid his hands flat against the golden expanse.

When the hard planes registered, where he was used to feeling soft mounds, he almost snatched his hands back, but then his thumb brushed over the hardened nub of one of Clark’s nipples, and Clark moaned and arched his chest out.

Whitney’s dick throbbed in his pants, and he reached for the hem of his football jersey, to pull it over his head. A hand on his arm stopped him. “Leave it, Whitney. Please. I like...I want to feel it. I...”

“God, Kent! You’re a kinky sonofabitch. Who’d’ve guessed? Fine. You want it; you got it. Turn around and drop your pants.”

Lips opening soundlessly, Clark hesitated only briefly before doing as he was told. The sight of the smooth, bare ass had Whitney’s fingers itching to touch. Instead, he fumbled at his pocket for the lube.

Getting it out, he grabbed Clark’s right hand, and squirted some along Clark’s fingers. “You’re going to open yourself up, and when I decide you’re done, I’m going to fuck you.”

Clark shot an uncertain look over his shoulder. “I...I don’t...I’ve never...How?”

Arousal spiked inside of Whitney again, when he realized that he was going to be Clark’s first. He swallowed the excitement, and forced himself to sound matter-of-fact. “C’mon, Kent. This isn’t rocket science. You need to loosen yourself up, or my cock will never fit inside your ass.”

Slowly, Clark reached his hand back, and Whitney watched avidly. Just because he’d decided at the last second that stretching Clark would be too gay, didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to enjoy the show. He’d do the same if it was a girl.

When Clark’s index finger finally found and breached his small hole, Whitney’s gasp echoed Clark’s. “Yeah, that’s it. Do it, Clark. Sink that finger all the way in. Good. Just like that.”

Whitney had to swallow quickly to prevent himself from drooling at the sight of Clark’s finger disappearing inside his ass, all the way to the last knuckle. Almost of their own volition, Whitney’s hands cupped each of Clark’s ass cheeks, and spread them apart so he could see more.

“You’re doing so good, Clark. Look at you just take that finger. You look loose enough; try a second one.”

Whitney couldn’t bite back a whispered, “Fuck,” when Clark gave a small, pain-sounding grunt at the stretch of the added digit. Without thinking about it, Whitney moved his thumbs inward, until they were pressing just around the outer edges of the rim Clark was pumping his fingers in and out of.

Not quite close enough to touch Clark’s moving hand, Whitney could still feel the movement of the skin around the stretched hole, feeling it pulling up around Clark’s fingers, as though it was loathe to let go. Whitney was starting to sympathize. He didn’t know if he was going to be able let Clark go after this was all over.

Pushing that thought far down, Whitney took a deep breath, and then pulled a condom out of his wallet, before undoing his pants and taking himself out. Rolling the condom on, he flinched at every touch along his sinfully hard cock. Tentatively, he spread lube along his entire length.

Grabbing Clark’s still moving hand, Whitney pulled Clark’s fingers free and then threaded their fingers together, and pressed them near Clark’s head. Using his other hand, he guided himself to Clark’s hole and started pushing in.

Clark’s fingers tightened around his, but with no voiced protest, Whitney didn’t stop until he was seated all the way in. When he was, he did have to stop, or risk coming before he’d really started.

So much for the thought that one hole was much like another. Being inside of Clark was nothing like being inside of a girl. He filled Clark completely, maybe too much, as the pressure was incredible. There was also no barrier in Whitney’s way, like there had been with those girls, preventing his long cock from sliding in all the way.

Clark cried out and shivered around him and Whitney let his head drop to between Clark’s shoulder blades, where he had to take several deep breaths before he dared to move again.

When he finally felt as though some control was restored, Whitney pulled out slowly, and just as slowly pushed back in. “Fuck! Fuck, Clark! God, that feels so damn good.”

Getting a good grip on Clark’s hips, Whitney repeated the motion at the same speed, even though he was having to reign himself in. He didn’t know much more than the basics about what he was doing, but he had heard that this kind of sex could hurt if it was rushed.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be any more than a quick fuck, but he didn’t want to hurt Clark. Especially since this was Clark’s first time. Though, with the sounds Clark was making, and the way he was moving back into each thrust was making it hard for Whitney to keep to the pace he’d set.

Bending his knees a little as he thrusts forward again, Whitney feels himself slip in even deeper, but when he pulls out, Clark cries out and freezes. Whitney stills, too. “Shit, did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

Clark’s shoulders are shaking, and feeling some of his arousal fade, Whitney starts to pull all the way out. He’s stopped when Clark reached a hand back, and grabbed one of Whitney’s hips. “Don’t. That last thrust...it felt good. Do it again, just like that. Except, I want...I want...need...it harder. Please, Whitney, it felt so good.”

Almost sagging with relief, it didn’t take Whitney long to recover. Kicking Clark’s legs open a little wider, Whitney was able to push inside even deeper than before, and he took advantage of the leverage it gave him. His thrusts picked up enough speed and force that Clark was practically being moved up on tiptoe, and they were both moaning and crying out in pleasure.

When Clark dropped his hand and reached between his legs, though, Whitney’s eyes flashed, and he darted his own hand down. The angle wasn’t the easiest, especially at the speed he was thrusting, but Whitney managed to wrap his hand around Clark’s cock.

Gasping at how hard Clark was, as well as at the slippery moisture sliding down the length, Whitney did his best to provide a tight tunnel for Clark to thrust into. They found a rhythm, and managed to keep it going for a while. It might have continued longer, but Whitney’s football jersey got in on the act.

Starting to hang a little lower on his frame than usual because of the sweat Whitney was building up, and the motion of his body, the jersey was now brushing against Whitney’s cock every time he pulled out or pushed in.

The light caress on his overly sensitive skin moved him closer to the edge, and he hunched his shoulders a little to get the fabric to hang even lower. Still, he managed to keep his pace, but when Clark let out a loud cry, cock pulsing his release into Whitney’s hand, causing his ass to clench around Whitney’s erection, Whitney couldn’t hold back any longer.

Giving one last powerful thrust, Whitney spent himself inside the condom. Struggling to regain his breath after all the exertion and still his trembling, Whitney slumped against Clark for a few seconds, before pulling out and tossing the stretched condom toward the nearest trash.

Stepping back just a little, he righted his own clothes while Clark pulled up and fastened his pants before turning around. Still breathing hard, Whitney looked at Clark and took in the still dilated eyes, the flushed cheeks, and the lips that looked even more full than usual. In fact, Whitney could see teeth marks in the lower one.

Swaying forward, Whitney stopped at Clark’s indrawn breath. Staring into the green eyes, Whitney raised a hand and rubbed the pad of a thumb over the sore looking lip. Then, deliberately, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Clark’s, sinking into a kiss.

In spite of his recent orgasm, Whitney moaned softly at the feeling of Clark’s soft lips against his. Nudging them apart, he darted his tongue forward, and slid it along Clark’s, enjoying how Clark shivered against him and shyly responded.

Clark’s shyness as he made his first attempts to kiss back were hotter than Whitney expected, and he felt his cock twitching against his zipper again. Even though Whitney was only seventeen, that was still too quick a turn-around for him, and he knew nothing would be happening for at least a little while longer.

More reluctantly than he would have suspected less than a half hour ago, Whitney pulled back with a last lick against Clark’s all too tempting lower lip, and then tried to regain some of his equilibrium. “Jesus, Clark. I’d say you could dig around in my stuff all you wanted if this will be my reward, but I have to admit I want to know what you were doing in there.”

Reaching for his locker again, he stopped when Clark put a hand on his arm. “Please don’t open it, Whitney. I promise, all I was doing was putting Lana’s necklace in there. I thought it might help you win her back, if that’s what you wanted. I really don’t want to see it again. I don’t exactly have the best memories of it.”

Whitney ran a hand through his hair. “Wow, I don’t know where to start with all of that. I know I’ve already apologized for the Scarecrow thing, but I feel like I should say it again. That tradition should have stopped years ago, and I think it will from now on.”

“I know you’re sorry, Whitney. You don’t have to say it again. It was your first apology that made me start to feel...well, you know. I wouldn’t be here, or done...that...with you, if I hadn’t forgiven you.”

“That, huh?” Whitney smirked at the blush that colored Clark’s cheeks again. He could get used to making him do that, but Whitney sobered quickly when he reminded himself what they were talking about. “You’re a better person than me, Clark. Even going so far to give me that damn necklace back, so I could get my girl back.”

Bending to pick up his shirts, Clark shrugged and refused to meet Whitney’s eyes. “Yeah, well, now you can. I better get going--”

This time it was Whitney who reached out and stopped Clark. “I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate what you did, but I don’t think I want her back anymore. We’re done for good.”

“Yeah?”

The look Clark slanted him, made Whitney tighten the grip he still had on Clark’s arm and start to pull him closer. “Yeah, I’ve found something better.” Running his eyes avidly over Clark’s still exposed chest, Whitney noticed the drying come on Clark’s abdomen. It made his dick twitch harder than before, and he realized that he might be up for more, soon.

Looking at Clark under his lashes, Whitney licked his lips deliberately, and enjoyed the way Clark’s eyes tracked the movement. “You know, I’m feeling a little sticky, and there are showers right over there. Would you like to come...get wet with me.”

Whitney took Clark’s dilating pupils and sharply indrawn breath as a yes. Smiling more broadly, and thinking how unexpectedly his day had wound up, Whitney started walking backwards, leading Clark where he wanted him to be.


End file.
